The Children of Time
by xDragonModzx
Summary: A series of oneshots about the Eleventh Doctor's children which are my OCs. Hope you enjoy :) Also I'd like to mention that the Doctor's wife Melody Pond is NOT River, just my OC though she is still Amy and Rory's daughter and still half Time Lord.
1. Chapter 1

"Get off, Amelia!" The Doctor protested, desperately trying to remove the tiny hands buried deep in his thick mop of hair.

Amelia squealed happily, swaying giddily upon her father's shoulders. Looking down to give him a an almost contemptuous smile, the baby girl gave his hair a hard, sharp tug. The Doctor yelped. Melody Pond chuckled, observing the scene from a balcony in the control room.

"You're going to have a bald patch in a few minutes time." she said, choking on her giggles.

"Well get her off because a bald patch is certainly _not_ attractive!" he snapped, attempting to pull his daughter off by her torso.

"If you cannot get a _nine_ month old baby off you then I think you don't really deserve your precious hair anyway." Melody mocked, skipping down the steps.

"Just get her off!"

For all her ridicules, the little Time Lord was considerably strong. Detaching the child's hands, Melody hauled her daughter from her father's shoulders. The baby's hearts were racing from the exhilaration. The Doctor gripped his chestnut brown hair protectively; Amelia laughed hysterically.

"It's not funny, Amelia May Pond!" he muttered indignantly, brushing a hand over the crimson hair on the girl's head.

"Come on, it is a bit." Melody smirked as the girl fiddled gently with her mother's jet black locks.

"I don't understand." he said breathlessly, his eyes fixed on mother and daughter. "What is it about _my_ hair? Why doesn't she try to pull _yours_ out?"

Melody shrugged. "Ask her."

The Doctor looked deep into his daughter's deep blue-green eyes and attached himself to her mentally. Amelia was too young to have proper fully formed thoughts like an adult but anybody gifted in telepathy would be able to understand the gist of what she thought of.

"Of course it's _real_! It's my hair." he said to the child abruptly, swinging her up from the arms of her mother. Amelia May chortled, clinging to her father's shoulders. For all the hair pulling and sleepless nights she dealt him, Amelia had always gravitated towards her father more. Time Lord to Time Lord she guessed.

"You, Amelia Pond, are trouble with a capital T."


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor tossed over roughly in his bed, the springs in the mattress trembling under his weight.

What was he doing? Time Lords didn't _need_ to sleep, so why waste the time? Perhaps the real truth was that it was something Melody did, so he too, did it, to appear more 'on level' with her. To impress her, in some strange way. Or maybe it was because he just liked the other activities that could take place within the same area. No chance of that, apparently. Melody was already asleep; as instantaneous as if someone had just snapped off the lights in her brain. What a gift, she had.

He glared irritatedly at the ceiling, watching the unmoving pile of black curls in his peripherals. He could not sleep. He sensed Amelia, could almost see her, sitting on the floor of the control room. She had his evident inability to lay still. After a few seconds of concentrating on the girl's presence, the Doctor capitulated and leapt up from his bed. Well technically, day and night didn't really affect him. Anyway, sleep, like patience, is for wimps. Buttoning up the collar on his shirt, he left Melody to her dreams and trotted down the staircase to his awakened family member.

His daughter was no longer the little girl he had carried around in his arms for years. Her rosy cheeks had become a thing of the past, along with the innocent ignorance and naivety. He had obviously known about the harsh maturity that Gallifreyan children went through but it still made him feel sort of sad. Nostalgia, he guessed.

Amelia May was sat cross-legged, barely in view behind the TARDIS controls. The blue glow beneath the floor cast shadows across her face, though from her posture, she seemed to be reading by the light. Her head was down, her cherry red hair braided delicately and slung over her shoulder. She too had attempted to sleep, clear from the white nightgown the girl wore. Her eyes were wonderful in this light, in _any_ light. Bright and deep and wise and mysterious. Kind of like her. Melody had once said their eyes were exactly the same, down to the green-gold flares around the pupils. Age had brought Amelia a stunning resemblance to her old father. Her skin, almost translucent as an infant, was now the colour of buttermilk. She had his proud cheekbones and jawline, that trademark chin of his, and her hair, although not brown, was thick and ropey like his.

The Doctor had tried to enter quietly to observe the tranquillity of the moment but his shoes, despite being completely worn-in, made small squeaking noises on the floor. Amelia's keen hearing picked up immediately. She missed nothing, that girl. She looked up sharply, but her face softened when she identified him.

"You're not sleeping?" he remarked, though he knew what kind of answer to expect.

"Can't." she replied, flipping over the corner of her page and setting the book down.

When Amelia had still been a baby, it had been difficult to discern what she meant when she was uneasy. Eventually, 'can't' had come to mean a physical indifference and 'wouldn't' stood for simple restlessness.

"You?" He sat opposite her.

"Wouldn't."

A smile twitched at her lips. "Sleep is for wimps."

"But sometimes necessary." he yawned.

There was a pause. The Doctor reached out for the book beside Amelia. The title was in circular Gallifreyan. It translated to _'They that walk in the shadows'. _Which literally translated back to the word _'Gallifrey'_.

"Do you know why it translates that way, Amelia?"

"Well, I presume it's because Kasterborous is one of the closest constellations to the black hole in the galaxy. Gallifrey, Karn and Polarfrey are as close as you can get to a black hole before you get spaghetti-fied."

"Scientifically that's correct. But-" he hesitated.

Amelia appraised him.

"But there's a more curious meaning to it." he finished. "Leave all the fact behind and just take in the word."

"Gallifrey, it's frozen in a pocket universe; _they that walk in the shadows_. The Time Lords there, they walk in the shadows of the ships."

"History works in strange ways, doesn't it?"

"I agree." she sighed.

They both studied each other for a second.

"Will you tell me about it?"

"About what?"

"About Gallifrey. What's it like?"

Amelia had the gleam in her eye. The thirst for knowledge maybe, but also a deep-rooted need to _feel_ the home she quite possibly would never see with her own eyes. Ever since she was old enough to understand, the Doctor had told her stories, anything she wanted. And she always asked for Gallifrey and she_ always_ got that look in her eye.

"One sentence wouldn't even begin to cover it, Amelia."

"Would a lot cover it?"

"Maybe."

She took this as submission and, for the first time in a long time, crawled over into her father's lap. Her head on his shoulder, he wrapped his arms around his daughter, holding her close.

"It's not called the Shining World of the Seven Systems for nothing." he started softly, resting his chin on her soft red hair. "Our star would rise in the south, the mountains would glow like hot coals. Some trees had glassy silver leaves. When the sun rose, it made the forests look like they were burning to the ground. It was so beautiful, Amelia. The green trees and the golden fields and the red deserts. I used to live on the side of a mountain when I was a little boy and you could see it all."

"I just wish you could have seen it."


End file.
